


Five Kisses for a Rose

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Girl Saves Boy, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2019-01-01 02:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12146637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Four times Lance kisses Allura - and one time she kisses him - while the two of them fall in love.





	Five Kisses for a Rose

                Allura’s never thought about how exhausting it actually is to form Voltron or fly a lion of her own, and the adrenaline has kept her going for a while now – but by the time they’ve gotten back into the Castle hangar, she’s half-crawling out of her lion, legs shaking.

                Lance is standing in front of her in a heartbeat. “How are you?” he asks, and there’s a twitch of a smile on his lips, although he _sounds_ sincere enough.

                She droops, collapsing against Blue’s leg in response. She _could_ be stubborn and stay standing a little while longer, but if she’s learned anything from her first stint as an actual paladin, it’s that mulishness isn’t actually getting her anywhere. “Tired,” she mumbles.

                “It’s hard work. Blue’s not too bad, though –“

                “Oh god. Really?”

                Lance chuckles, leaning down and wrapping a supportive arm around her waist as he hauls her to her feet. “She’s a good girl. Although she bitches at me every time I try to do cool things.”

                “Whereas Red -?”

                “Is quicker to the accelerator for dumb stunts than I am.”

                She snorts at that, although she can’t help the slight melancholy that fills her chest. It’s so odd, to think of Lance flying the same lion as her father – to think that while they’re happy enough with how things worked out, both she and Lance would rather trade.

                “Lance –“ she starts to say.

                “I know, I know, I’m even prettier close up.”

                And just like that, she wants to hit him again. “Ugh.” She can’t quite make it convincing, or hide the smile on her lips. Especially since _he’s_ smiling too, with a hint of something that’s closer to nostalgia than sadness.

                She wants to tell him what it was like touching the controls for the first time. She isn’t sure he wants to hear it.

                “C’mon. Let’s get you somewhere you can lie down.” Lance half-supports her all the way down to her room, and it’s only when they’re at the door to her room that she thinks to ask, “Aren’t you tired as well?”

                “What, me?”

                “I saw you zipping around in Red.” She tries not to sound bitter. She tries, and she’s not sure if she succeeds -

                But Lance shrugs it off, pulling her arm from around his neck. “A little, I guess.” Never mind that his eyes look half glazed over, and she watches with no shortage of consternation as he wavers on his feet.

                “Lance. Go to bed.”

                “Alright, _alright._ ” He grins, and then – casually, without a moment of thought or warning, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world – he leans forward, hand on her shoulder, and presses his lips to her cheek. “Night, Princess.”

                He walks off, already trying to fiddle with his armour. Allura can feel her entire face burning – and just to make the entire thing more surreal, she can see the exact moment that reality catches up with him as he wavers on his feet with a moment of shock, then finally passes out against the wall with a ‘clonk’ as his helmet smacks against the wall.

                She sighs, pressing her fingers to her cheek and trying to ignore the way her hearts are suddenly racing against her ribcage. Then she shakes off her exhaustion for a little longer – she doesn’t have enough energy to carry him anywhere, but the least she can do is give him a pillow and blanket, especially since he’s already decided the floor looks comfortable enough.

\---

                They don’t talk about it. Mostly because Allura’s trying to preserve Lance’s dignity, and she thinks he’s trying to preserve _hers._ But she can tell with how antsy he gets around her, how nervous he is to impress her suddenly – and equally nervous as he tries to cover up that he’s doing so – that he’s still thinking about it.

                Then, on another diplomatic mission in an attempt to secure a planet for the coalition, they’re asked to a ball. It’s a small event, nothing too much – it’s a mostly-rural planet, and Allura feels perfectly comfortable there - and its nice to sit back and enjoy the music and dancing.

                Then Lance asks her to dance. He’s trying to be smooth, but months with him in space has taught her the little tics. He tugs at the bottom of his shirt, then folds his hands behind him, but that just moves the nervous movement down to his feet.

                “Of course,” she says, and the look of overjoyed surprise on his face is something she tucks away into her chest, something to remember for the dark nights. And it turns out he’s a good dancer, too.

                “What type of dancing is this?” she asks, following his lead.

                “Oh, just something we do on Earth. This is foxtrot – “ he does one kind of step – “this is tango –“ another kind, “and _this_ is a waltz.”

                “Oh! I see. And do these dances have different meanings?”

                “Not exactly. I mean, some of them are –“ He’s close to her, so close their noses are touching, “you know. They involve you being closer to your partner. They mean what you want them to mean.”

                _I want you to kiss me,_ come the words to her mouth, and she keeps them inside out of force of will. But they stay there, sitting in her throat, a feeling she can’t ignore.

                _Well, I can damn well try._ She has other things to worry about. Worlds to save. A lion to learn how to pilot, that she’s still clumsy and uncertain with.

                “What do you want this dance to mean, then?” she asks anyway. She knows it’s bold. She still wants to know.

                Lance smirks at her, fingers curling between hers, hand shifting on her hip –

                -the music ends, and he takes a step back, bowing to her with a hint of irony she doesn’t miss. Then he presses his lips to the back of her hand, blue eyes flickering up at her from under his eyelashes.

                The first kiss was an accident. This one is deliberate, and it sends a rush of heat through her veins, down her spine, until she feels like she’s shivering. “I – I have to go.”

                Then she makes her escape. She can leave the diplomacy to Lance. Right now, she _needs_ to be alone.

\---

                She isn’t sure why it’s settling in her head like a heavy stone – the idea that there might be more to her and Lance than just friends and co-pilots. Even the friends thing is new. But now, every time she sees him, she can _feel_ his kisses on her cheek and hand, like brands or marks –

                It’s not that she doesn’t want them. It’s that she doesn’t know how to respond. When the war started and Altea was burning, the world was just starting to open up to her. She had one small romance, once when she was still almost a child – and the farthest that ever got was holding hands. She doesn’t know what to do.

                And Lance – Lance has probably done this a million times over. She can’t help but worry that she’s just somebody close at hand, somebody else to love, until some new figure grabs his fancy.

                But at the same time…

                …at the same time, she’s had too many nights lying in bed wondering what it would be like to have somebody there with her. Not to feel so alone.

                She should have expected it, but Lance notices. He’s too clever not to. Put a math problem in front of him and he’ll do everything possible to get out of it, but if somebody’s acting peculiar he’ll be the first to pick up on it. So when he follows her into a quiet corner, concern written all over his features, she’s so tense that she ends up with her hands over her face trying not to look at him.

                “Whoa, hey. Allura, are you okay?”

                _I like it when you use my name,_ she wants to say. It’s too vulnerable for her to admit to. “S-stop,” she manages to say – and he does, staying a respectable distance from her. He sticks his hands in his pockets.

                “Hey, I –“ He swallows. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. I was – teasing, y’know? But I can stop.”

                _Does that mean it didn’t mean anything?_ There’s too many questions, crowding her head with panic, and her hands end up over her ears, even though that doesn’t do anything –

                He ends up touching her elbows, trying to get her to relax. “Tell me if I need to back off. Okay? But I can’t do anything if you don’t talk to me.”

                “Why am I so scared?” she manages to whimper, and she hates this, _hates_ it, she doesn’t want to be vulnerable, not to Lance, not when she wants to both tear herself open to him and hide from his gaze forever.

                Lance doesn’t make fun, even though she almost expected it. He doesn’t smirk or laugh, even though she feels like she deserves it. His fingers are the only thing touching her, delicate on her elbows and the underside of her arms. “Because emotions are scary?” he suggests, and there’s a slight shake to his voice. “I mean, I - Look. I really like you. Like – a lot. You’re smart, you’re powerful, you’re stubborn as _fuck_ and it’s kind of annoying and endearing all at once… I mean, Blue _loves_ you. And I –“ He breaks with a laugh. “Not the point.”

                “It’s not?” she says shyly, and she _loves_ the way he flushes at that.

                “It… well…” He blinks and drags himself back to whatever he was talking about. “The point is, I like you, but you don’t…That doesn’t mean you have to do anything back. You don’t _owe_ me anything. I just like flirting with you. It’s fun. But if it’s not fun for you, then I’ll stop.”

                Allura can’t quite decide what she wants. But slowly, her hands collapse down by her sides, and she swallows, blinking the frustrated tears from her eyes. It hadn’t occurred to her that things didn’t _have_ to be stressful. “It…” Fuck. Now she’s blushing so hard she can barely get anything out. “I think I like it. I just – don’t know yet.”

                “That’s okay. You don’t have to. I mean – it’s not like this is a zero sum game. You can change your mind.”

                Allura leans forward into his chest, the touch a comfort. It was what she needed to hear. She lets the rhythm of his one heart vibrate against her two, and slowly, hers calm down into a steady beat.

                When he kisses her forehead – gently, carefully, letting her stop him if she needs to – she doesn’t mind at all.

\----

                “No,” she says flatly, and the bluntness brings all the eyes in the room to her. She nearly backs off – _nearly –_ but she won’t. “I’m not – I won’t risk it.”

                The look Lance gives her is both exasperated and flattered. She doesn’t care. She won’t let him risk his life for this. “Red is the fastest lion we have, and I’m a more unpredictable pilot than Keith-“

                “-if that’s your word for terrifying-“ mumbles Pidge in the background-

                “I heard that. Point being, I’ll be able to go in, wreck their base and get out of there twice as fast as anybody else right now.”

                Allura keeps her arms crossed. It stops her from shaking quite so much, and Lance is close enough that he can see it anyway, but she doesn’t care, she doesn’t _care –_ “If you’re trying to prove something-“ she says lowly, but he laughs it off - which means she’s probably right.

                “If it works, it works, right?”

                “I don’t want you risking your life over something stupid.”

                He makes a move to turn away – she grabs his arm. “Lance, for _gods’_ sake –“

                Lance pauses. Then he takes her hand and fixes his eyes to hers, laying a gentle kiss to the tips of her fingers. It’s more than romantic – it’s intimate in a way he’s never dared to do before. It feels, Allura thinks with a touch of horror, an awfully lot like a goodbye. “I’ll be fine. And if I’m not, I give you full permission to kick my ass.”

                She ends up agreeing – but she won’t move from her position in front of the control panel, even once the Red Lion is barely a speck in the dark distance. It doesn’t matter what Keith says to her, or how Hunk tries to persuade her to eat something.

                This time, she won’t miss the opportunity to save somebody who didn’t have to die.

\---

                The call from Blue comes out of nowhere, a sudden shock to Allura’s system that leaves her reeling. Almost before she’s even recovered, she’s running down to the hangar, the others catching on and following her –

                “Allura-“

                “Princess-“

                “-can you _please_ tell us what’s-“

                Any other time she would. But right now, she’s too scared at the concept of losing somebody else, and her nerves are on fire, her eardrums pulsing –

                Allura flies faster than she ever has, almost losing control of Blue more than once, and she knows, she _knows_ only half of her is here in the present, but that’s more than enough –

                _You should have kissed him when you had the chance._

But there’s no time for that. By the time she gets to the base, she can see Red in the distance, far away from the figure on the ground, surrounded by drones – she can see the smear of red over Lance’s blue uniform –

                Blue lands hard on the ground, a growl coming deep from the depths of her machinery, and Allura is springing out of her before she’s even fully landed, whip darting out to wind around one drone’s neck and snap it in half. The second gets a full kick in the face – the third is blasted away before she can get to it.

                Lance lets his bayard slip from his fingers as he props himself up against a rock. He gives her a lazy, exhausted grin. “That went well,” he slurs.

                “You _asshole!_ ” leaps from her mouth.

                “Whoa. Not even happy to see me?”

                She marches over and stands over him for a moment before sitting down next to him, wiping some of the blood from his eyebrow. He’s not as badly off as he _could_ be, and she tries to swallow the fear now that she knows – _he’s safe he’s fine –_

“Don’t do that to me again,” she whispers. “Don’t – don’t leave me. Next time you go on a stupid, foolhardy, idiotic suicide mission –“

                “You’ll kill me yourself?” he supplies. But she shakes her head.

                “You’re taking me with you.”

                She kisses him, softly at first, her fingers sliding over his cheek. Then his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer, and she can’t help but pour her relief, her frustration, her fear into the kiss until she thinks her lips will bruise.

                Finally, they break apart, Allura’s nose brushing over his cheekbone. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

                “Awesome,” he breathes, eyes still fixed on her face. “Did I ever finish that list of compliments I was giving you? Because you’re kind of scary badass when you’re mad at me and I love it.”

                “I was not _mad_ at you.”

                “Whatever it was. It’s getting me kind of hot.”

                “ _Lance._ ”

                “I’m just saying!” He winces as Allura pulls him to his feet. “Also, don’t let me pass out on the floor again.”

                She smiles at that – then tucks her arm under his legs, pulling him into her arms.

                “…Right. Oh my god. You can carry me. That is… also going on the list.”

                “Do you have this written down anywhere?”

                “Wild horses couldn’t drag it out of me.”

                But for all his sass, when Lance curls into her neck, arms looping around her, she can hear the quiet, “Thank you.” And it’s all she needs to hear to know that this – _this –_ is what she wants.


End file.
